


The Adventure of the Missing Cake

by herlocksholmes1888



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: M/M, RETIREMENT!!!!!!, it's january 6 my dudes, mr holmes is too important to me it's not even funny /j, that housekeeper that has no name is also here lmao its retirement era my dudes, this is a birthday fanfic because why the frick not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:33:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28591812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herlocksholmes1888/pseuds/herlocksholmes1888
Summary: It's Sherlock Holmes' birthday and dr. Watson intends to keep him busy while he plans on a little surprise. What he did not expect was that the key surprise was going to go missing.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	The Adventure of the Missing Cake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [a fictional neurodivergent detective named Sherlock Holmes](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=a+fictional+neurodivergent+detective+named+Sherlock+Holmes).



> I've known Sherlock Holmes since I was 10-11, through The Dying Detective shortstory. Ever since, this character has grown on me and have been by my side during many harships and bad moments. It feels weird, but he has been somewhat one of my longtime "friends" and I wanted to do something for his birthday!

Dr. Watson and Mr. Holmes have lived together for 2 years, which means it was 1883. They have been together for many cases, but dr. Watson never knew one basic thing about the man that constantly smoked by his side:

"If you don't mind me asking, Holmes," he said "when is your birthday?"

"Why such question?"

"I've just been curious! We live together but you always keep such secrecy surrounding some personal subjects, and I don't understand why."

"If I haven't shared the date with you, doctor, that is because I don't have a liking for grand gestures. I don't see a point in a big celebration."

"Well, I _wouldn't_ make a big celebration out of it. I simply wished to know it."

Silence. Then the young detective's voice replied: "January 6th. It's the January 6th."

At the time, dr. Watson did not know what to do with the information so he simply wished him a happy birthday every year in the morning and then ignored the fact for the rest of the day. But now, after the retirement of the Great Detective and the end of The Great War, dr. Watson started considering if he should do something more.

That morning, he greeted the man who slept by his side with a soft cheek kiss: "Happy birthday, Sherlock."

Sherlock Holmes grunted into consciousness, looking at him. "Did you forget to run the curtain again?"

"I did it on purpouse."

He grinned, still tired. "On my birthday? Where's your consideration for the elder?"

As he went to take care of the bees earlier than usual, dr. Watson ran to the housekeeper, who already knew of his plans. 

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" she asked "You know he is not the type of person to do celebrations."

"It won't be a _big_ celebration. Did the inspector come by?"

"Yes, he did. Inspector Bradstreet asked me if he was up and I told him that he would be in no time. He'll probably meet mr. Holmes while he is out with those dreadful bees - can you believe he got africanized ones? Those are the devil!"

"Did you make sure to ask if the case he has at hands is not one that requires much energy? Sherlock has been suffering a big deal from rheumatism lately and I do not wish him to hurt himself today."

"Don't worry, Inspector Bradstreet knows that. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to leave. Gonna enjoy my day without him."

The housekeeper did not have a dislike of mr. Holmes, but her patience had a limit that has been traspassed a long time ago.

Dr. Watson, then, decided to bake a simple cake. It was standard for a birthday. 

After it was finished, he left it by the window and waited for Sherlock Holmes' return, sitting close to the door the same way a loyal pup sits waiting for it's human. The wait soon ended and the door was opened, Holmes giving a tired breathe as he entered the cottage. He greeted Watson with a kiss and started apologising for the hour he had come back:

"Sorry for the wait, dear John, Bradstreet appeared and asked for my advice." 

"I thought you had retired." Watson teased. 

"I had, I just continue working." he sat in an armchair. "Although, it is odd that he appeared so early."

"Why is it odd, my dear?"

"He obviously took the train to come from London to Sussex, and if he appeared so early it means he was already in Sussex at least a day before. Now, why would he wait for an entire day to contact me? It is also odd that the problem he presented me could have been easily solved by himself; he may be a policeman and policemen are not really bright, but he is no fool, John, so why call me?" 

"Maybe, the police work have declined ever since you retired, my dear. Do you want a cup of tea?"

"Thank you." he said as he took the cup his fianceé offered. "But it is still odd, don't you think? There is something happening. I wonder what it is." he then stopped, looking around. "Where's the housekeeper?"

"She left. I believe to visit an ill relative."

Holmes stood quietly. Then: "John..."

"What is it?"

"It is all your doing, isn't it? What are you up to?"

"If you follow me, perhaps I can show you."

He took Holmes to the window he had left the cake, but now it was gone. All that was left was the silver plate he had put it. Surprised by the sudden turn of events, Watson turned to Holmes: "Is this _your_ doing?"

"John, _think_ : how could've I have done it if I knew not of it?"

"You could have been pretending this whole time!" he looked back at the window, sorrowful. "I wanted to surprise you with something small and now it's gone..." 

"You did?"

"I made a cake. I learnt the recipe just to do it for you."

According to dr. Watson's writing, Sherlock Holmes was not the type of man to show emotions easily. He was wrong, for at that time he had the most emotive facial expression a man could've had in the same situation. Recomposing himself, he said: "Well, you still surprised me with a little mystery."

"Mystery?"

"Who stole it?"

They went outside and looked for clues. There were some footprints, but they soon vanished. Dr. Watson was about to drop the case and tell Holmes just to go inside so they could rest by the fire, sharing a blanket while one of them rested their head over the other's chest, when Holmes yelled that he had found some crumbs of the cake. They followed them for a while and they soon found where the culprit was. 

"Excuse me, young man," Holmes said "have you been to a cottage in the middle of nowhere lately?"

"Oh, that was your cottage, Mr. 'Olmes?" the young man replied, surprised. "I thought I had been lost! Sorry, I may have taken something from you - thought it was enough to feed the others when I reached back to London."

" _Wiggins_?" Watson said. "How did you get here?"

"I heard Bradstreet doing a fuss about needing to come here and I had enough money to buy a ticket, sir. I mean, doesn't mean I got all the money in the most honest way." he shrugged. "But I did hear Bradstreet saying something about it being mr. 'Olmes birthday and I decided to visit."

Luckily, he hadn't eaten the entire cake - yet Holmes allowed him to take most of it back to London to share among the Irregulars. 

Finally, Watson got to the rest-by-the-fire part of the day. Resting his head against Holmes' chest, staring unblinkingly at the flames while nature made it's nocturnal sounds. He quietly whispered: "I'm sorry it almost got out of hand... I shouldn't have done anything."

Holmes chuckled. "John, my dear, you have absolutely nothing to be sorry for."

"But nothing went according to plan!"

"I got two little mysteries for the day, saw two people I hadn't seen in ages because of them and, most importantly, you didn't try any grand-gesture such as throwing a big party or calling a bunch of people, which you know I would've hated. I'm thankful everything almost got out of hand, you little troublemaker." 

Watson grinned as Holmes kissed him. His lips were cold, but there was warmth behind them. He laid his head once again and said nothing for the rest of the evening, waiting for the time Holmes would start yawning so he could convience him it was time to sleep. 

In those silent moments at the cottage, Watson thought that he too was thankful everything almost got out of hand. 


End file.
